[Fluffie]

It was a good thing that Fluffie never had been too fond of his bunk in Tower D. It was also a good thing he knew for certain his bunk wouldn't be stopping any bullets, especially those from his fast firing Mp10. It seemed like a not so good thing that his opponent would probably realise the same thing: bullets versus bed didn't equal to the amount of fun as bullets versus counter did. With a slim smile on his face, Fluffie got up into a crouched position again, making sure to keep it behind his cover.

Three...

The SMG was in front of him again, now still aimed away from where he hoped his target would still be. Fluffie slightly changed his position, making as little sound as possible while he adjusted the direction in which the barrel of his firearm was pointing.

Two...

For a split second, Fluffie realised he really felt like lighting a cigeratte. First things first though and first, there was someone to kill. Maybe then, maybe after he had killed their entire Unit, Squad, Platoon, Regiment, whatever, he didn't care. This was the moment, that was for later.

One...

Silent and swiftly, Fluffie got up from his crouched position, standing behind the counter. He started firing at the bed in bursts, hitting enough of it to make sure if there was anyone behind it, they'd feel the bite of fast bullets tearing through them. As he did so, he quickly looked at the rest of the room, making sure he wasn't firing at the wrong spot...